It's been a couple weeks since we decided to take a break from the experiments but now, we are back at it. meticulously researching, triple checking every calculation and every little step we take. The lab feels different. There's a heaviness in the air, as if the walls themselves are holding their breath, waiting to see what happens next.

I've always thought of this room as a place of possibility, filled with books, beakers, and ancient relics that could unlock our future. But now, with the upcoming experiment, it feels more like a threshold—one we're about to cross without knowing if we'll make it safely to the other side.

Alcina stands at the far end of the room, her back to me, meticulously preparing the materials for the test. Her movements are sharp, precise, but there's a tension in the way she handles the glass vials and components. She's quieter than usual, focused, and yet I can feel the edge of something unsettled in her energy.

I try to focus on the task at hand, setting out the fragments of Rose on the table, but my thoughts keep drifting. This experiment is bigger than anything we've attempted before. We've spent weeks refining the process, recalculating every formula, tweaking every detail. And yet, despite all our preparation, my heart is racing, a knot of anxiety coiling tight in my chest. My tail flicks behind me, the only outward sign of the nervous energy I'm trying to suppress.

I glance at Alcina again, watching the way her hands move, methodical and graceful, but with a kind of controlled intensity that makes me worry. She's been distant lately, and I know why. The last experiment—the one that almost went wrong—shook her more than she's willing to admit.

"Are you ready?"

Alcina's voice cuts through the silence, low and steady. She doesn't look up from the table as she speaks, but I can hear the tension beneath her calm exterior. I nod, though she can't see me, and force myself to answer.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

The fragments glow faintly in the low light of the lab, their soft hum filling the air between us. I can feel their energy, pulsing beneath the surface like something alive, waiting. My tail flicks again, and I take a slow breath, steadying myself. This is it. This is the moment we've been building toward for months.

Alcina finally turns to face me, her expression unreadable, but I can see the tightness in her jaw, the way her eyes flicker with something close to fear. She steps toward me, her long shadow cast across the table, and for a moment, the room feels smaller, like the weight of everything is pressing in on us.

"We've double-checked everything,"

she says quietly, her eyes scanning the materials laid out before us.

"There's nothing more to prepare."

I nod again, my throat suddenly dry.

"It'll work this time,"

I say, trying to sound confident, though my voice wavers slightly. Alcina's eyes flick up to meet mine, and there's a hardness in her gaze that makes my stomach twist.

"It has to,"

she replies, her tone sharp, but not unkind. She's scared, and I can feel it—her fear mingling with my own. I step closer to the table, my hand hovering just above the fragments. The glow seems to pulse in response to my presence, and I can feel the pull of their energy, like a thread connecting us. My heart skips a beat, and for a brief moment, a flicker of hope rises in my chest. This could work. It has to.

Alcina moves to stand beside me, and I can feel the tension in her body, the way her usually calm exterior is cracking. She reaches for the small blade on the table, her fingers steady but cold as she slices a thin line across her wrist. The blood pools at the surface, rich and dark, and for a second, the world seems to pause.

"We'll start slow,"

I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. Alcina nods, but her gaze is locked on the fragments, her jaw clenched tight. She doesn't say anything as she lets a drop of blood fall onto the glowing shards. The reaction is immediate—an intense pulse of energy that fills the room, the fragments lighting up with a deep, crimson glow.

I take a deep breath, focusing on my own energy, feeling it rise to the surface letting it mix with Alcina's blood. I can feel the pull of the fragments, the way they respond to both of us, their energy pulsing in time with our own.

For a moment, everything feels balanced. The glow intensifies, the fragments vibrating with power, but it's controlled. Alcina's blood and my energy intertwine, creating something new, something potent. But then, just as quickly, it starts to shift. The fragments pulse again, harder this time, the light turning erratic. I feel the energy slip, like a rope fraying at the edges, and my heart sinks.

"Alcina..."

I start, my voice tight with fear. But it's too late. The power surges, and before I can react, a violent burst of energy explodes from the table, knocking me backward. I slam into the ground, pain shooting through my back, and the world tilts around me. My tail twitches, the sharp ache radiating up my spine, and for a second, I can't move. I hear a crash to my left, followed by Alcina's sharp intake of breath. My vision blurs, but I force myself to sit up, panic rising in my chest.

"Alcina!"

She's on the ground, not far from me, her hand pressed to her head where she hit the wall. I scramble to my feet, ignoring the sharp sting in my muscles as I rush to her side. My tail flicks anxiously behind me, curling around her leg as I kneel beside her.

"Are you okay?"

My voice is shaky, my hands trembling as I reach for her, but she pulls away, her face twisted with anger and pain.

"We're done,"

she snaps, her voice laced with rage.

"We're not doing this again."

I freeze, her words hitting me like a slap. I watch as she pushes herself to her feet, her movements stiff and full of fury. My heart pounds in my chest, and for the first time, I see it—really see it. The fear, the frustration, the anger that's been building in her for weeks. And now, it's all coming out.

"Alcina—"

I begin, but she cuts me off with a sharp glare, her eyes flashing with something dangerous.

"This is madness,"

she spits, her voice rising.

"Do you want to end up like her? Like Miranda? Because at this rate you will be"

I flinch at her words, but I force myself to stay calm. I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. My tail flicks nervously behind me, and I take a step back, my heart sinking. She's terrified. And for the first time, I don't know if I can calm her down.

Alcina's glare is sharp enough to cut through steel, and I feel my heart clench in my chest. The energy in the room has shifted violently—gone is the calm, methodical focus we shared before the experiment. Now, it's replaced with a whirlwind of frustration, fear, and anger, and it's all radiating from her like a storm that's about to break.

I try to steady myself, but my mind is spinning. My tail flicks behind me, betraying the nervous energy coursing through me. I want to say something, to calm her, to reassure her that we can figure this out, but the look in her eyes stops me.

"Alcina, wait—"

I start, my voice softer than I intend, but she's not listening.

"Wait? For what?"

She laughs, but there's no humour in it—just bitterness.

"For this to go wrong again? For you to get hurt again. Do you understand what we're doing? We're crossing a line we shouldn't be crossing!"

I watch as she paces, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. Her movements are erratic, filled with the kind of tension I've only seen in her once before, when Miranda was still a looming threat in our lives. But this isn't about Miranda. This is about us—about what we're trying to create, about the fear that's been building inside her for weeks, and now, it's all coming out in a wave of anger.

"We're playing with something we can't control,"

she continues, her voice rising with every word.

"You think this is just another experiment? Another test? We're dealing with power that could destroy us—power that could destroy you!"

Her words hit me hard, and I feel my heart sink. The way she's lashing out—it hurts. It hurts more than I expected, and I can feel the weight pressing down on me.

"Alcina, I know you're scared, but—"

I try again, stepping closer to her, my tail curling around my leg nervously.

"Scared?"

She stops abruptly, her eyes flashing as she turns to face me fully.

"Of course I'm scared! I'm terrified, Arinn. Do you have any idea how close we came to losing everything tonight?"

I swallow hard, the raw emotion in her voice making my chest tighten. I know she's right—we were close, too close. The experiment went wrong, and the danger was real. But the way she's looking at me now, like I'm slipping through her fingers, like she's on the verge of losing something she can't bear to lose—it breaks my heart.

I take a slow breath, trying to steady the storm inside me. My tail flicks again, curling slightly in agitation, but I ignore it and step closer to her, my hand reaching out tentatively.

"Alcina,"

I say quietly, my voice soft but firm.

"I know this is dangerous, I'm not stupid. I knew the risks going into this. But I need you to trust me."

She pulls away slightly, her eyes searching mine for something—reassurance, maybe, or an answer that I don't have. But there's still that hardness in her gaze, that wall she's put up between us, and it's killing me. I can feel her pulling away, shutting me and I don't know how to break through it.

"Trust you?"

she whispers, her voice filled with something vulnerable, something raw.

"I do trust you, Arinn. But this... this is different."

Her hand coming up to press against her forehead as if the weight of her emotions is too much to bear. My tail, though still flicking with nervous energy, curls lightly around her leg, a soft, instinctive gesture of comfort. She looks down at me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, and for a moment, the anger in her face fades, replaced by something softer—something more vulnerable.

"If you want to stop,"

I say quietly, my heart aching as I speak the words,

"Then we'll stop."

The silence that stretches between us feels suffocating. Alcina before me, her expression torn between anger and something much deeper—something vulnerable and raw that I've only glimpsed in her during our darkest moments. And I know that whatever comes next will change everything.

I take a slow, shaky breath, my tail curling tightly around my own leg now, as if to ground myself. The words I'm about to repeat hurt more than anything I've ever had to admit, but I love Alcina too much to let this break us. If stopping the experiments is what she needs, then I'll do it. I'll let it all go, no matter how much it tears me apart inside.

"If you want to stop,"

I repeat softly, my voice barely above a whisper,

"I'll get rid of everything. The fragments, the research... all of it. We don't have to do this."

I force myself to look up at her, even though my heart feels like it's shattering with every word. Her golden eyes are locked on mine, and for a moment, I see a flicker of shock pass across her face, as if she wasn't expecting me to say it—wasn't expecting me to give up so easily. But it's not easy. It's anything but.

"We can stop?"

she whispers, her voice laced with disbelief, as if she's still processing what I've said. Her eyes soften, but there's a deep sadness in them now, a sorrow that mirrors my own. I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat.

"If that's what you want. If this is too dangerous, if you're not ready... I won't push you. I'll let it go."

My chest tightens as the words leave my mouth, and for a second, I feel like I can't breathe. The truth is, I don't want to stop. I don't want to give up on this. I want to start a family with her, to have a child that we can call ours, something pure and beautiful that we created together. To raise a child the way I was never, to shower them in love and affection, to watch them grow. I knew getting my hopes up would be a bad idea.

Stepping closer to her, reaching for her hand. My fingers shake as they wrap around hers, but I hold on, even though my heart is breaking.

"Alcina, I love you more than anything. More than this... more than any dream I had of starting a family. If it's too much for you, we'll stop. We'll walk away from this."

Her hand tightens around mine, and I can feel the tension in her body, the way her breathing is uneven, as if she's holding back tears. But I can't tell her how much this is hurting me. I can't let her see the pain that's twisting inside me, the way my heart aches at the thought of giving up the one thing I've always wanted. A child.

I love Cassandra, Daniela, and Bela with everything I have. They've become my family, and I would die for them, protect them with my life. But they're not mine. Not in the way I've dreamed of. And that dream... the one I've carried with me since the day I fell in love with Alcina—it feels like it's slipping away.

So, I tuck those feelings away, locking them behind the walls I've built inside myself, and I smile, even though it feels like my heart is splintering. My tail flicks softly, betraying the storm inside me, but I keep my face calm.

"If stopping this will keep you safe and happy"

I whisper, my voice steady despite the ache in my chest,

"Then that's what we'll do. I won't ask you to risk it."

"You would give this up,"

she murmurs, her voice thick with emotion.

"For me?"

I nod, even though it kills me to do so.

"Yes. Always."

The silence between us stretches on, and I can feel the weight of everything pressing down on me. My tail curls around my own leg tighter, as if to hold me together, but inside, I feel like I'm unravelling.

Alcina steps closer to me, her arms wrapping around me in a tight embrace, and I let out a shaky breath as I lean into her. Her hands tremble slightly as they press against my back, and for a moment, neither of us speaks. We just hold each other, the weight of everything we're not saying filling the space between us.

Her arms tighten around me, and I feel the tension in her body easing slightly, but the sadness lingers. The dream of a family, of something more, is still there between us, and I know that part of me will always want it. But I can't let it tear us apart.

The days following the experiment feel quieter than usual, but not in a peaceful way. The tension between Alcina and me still lingers, hanging in the air like a heavy cloud that neither of us knows how to clear. She's been more distant, retreating into herself, while I've done my best to push my own feelings down, hiding the hurt beneath a mask of calm. I can't let her see how much it's affecting me. She's already carrying enough.

I've thrown myself into the usual routine—helping around the castle, spending time with the daughters—but the hollow ache in my chest remains. It's a quiet sort of pain, the kind that doesn't show on the surface, but runs deep beneath. My tail flicks behind me, more subdued than normal, curling around my leg when I think too much about the choice I made to stop the experiments.

I'm sitting in one of the smaller rooms of the castle, organizing a few books on the shelves, when the door creaks open behind me. I glance over my shoulder and see Bela stepping inside, her sharp eyes immediately locking onto mine. She's been quieter than usual lately, watching me with a kind of silent intensity that I've come to recognize when she's concerned.

"Mama"

she says softly, closing the door behind her.

"Can we talk?"

I nod, setting the book down and turning to face her. My tail flicks nervously, brushing against the side of the bookshelf.

"Of course. What's on your mind?"

She steps closer, her brow furrowed slightly as she studies me.

"What's going on between you and Mother?"

The question caught me off guard, and for a moment, I hesitate. Bela has always been the most observant of the daughters, and it's no surprise that she's noticed something is off. I've tried to keep it hidden, tried to act like everything is fine, but I should have known better than to think I could hide it from her.

"We're... working through some things,"

I say carefully, avoiding her gaze.

"It's nothing for you to worry about."

Bela's expression softens, and she steps closer, her hand gently resting on my arm.

"I'm already worried, mama. We all are. You've been quieter than usual, and Mother... she's not herself. Something's wrong."

I feel the weight of her concern pressing down on me, and for a moment, I want to tell her everything—to let her know how much I've been struggling with this, how much I've had to bury my own feelings for Alcina's sake. But I hold back. I can't burden her with that.

"It's complicated,"

I admit, forcing a small smile.

"But we'll be okay. We just need some time."

Bela doesn't look convinced, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly.

"Is this about the experiments?"

I flinch at the mention of them, my tail twitching in response. I should have known she'd figure it out. She's been watching us, paying attention to the long nights in the lab, the secrecy. She knows more than I've given her credit for. I nod slowly, my voice barely above a whisper.

"We decided to stop. It's... it's what Alcina needs right now."

Bela's eyes soften with understanding, and she steps even closer, her hand tightening on my arm.

"And what about you? Is it what you need?"

I've spent so long focusing on Alcina's needs, on what she wants, that I haven't let myself think about my own. But now, standing here with Bela, I can't keep up the facade.

"I just want her to be happy,"

I whisper, my voice trembling slightly.

"If that means giving up the experiments, then... then that's what I'll do."

Bela watches me for a long moment, her expression unreadable. But then, without warning, she pulls me into a hug, wrapping her arms around me tightly. It's not something she does often—Bela isn't usually the type for open displays of affection—but right now, I need it more than I realized.

"We're already a family,"

she murmurs against my shoulder, her voice soft but firm.

"You're a part of that, mama. We love you."

I feel my chest tighten, a lump forming in my throat as I return the embrace. My tail, which had been tense and flicking nervously, now curls loosely around Bela's leg in a gesture of comfort. The words she's saying, though simple, mean everything. She doesn't know it, but it's exactly what I needed to hear.

"I love you, too. All of you."

Bela pulls back slightly, offering me a small, genuine smile.

"Good. Then stop acting like you have to carry this alone. You've done enough for us already."

Before I can respond, the door slams again, and this time, Cassandra and Daniela fly inside pulling me into a bear like hug. Their faces are a mix of curiosity and concern, and I realize that they must have been listening in from the hallway.

"You're not getting rid of us that easily, you know,"

Cassandra says with a smirk, after they release me from the hug.

"You've been too quiet, It's weird."

Daniela gives me a light shove, her eyes gleaming playfully.

"Yeah, stop moping around! You're